Off Guard
by dancinginthesunlight
Summary: "He'd never hold a seashell to his ear and hear the comforting sounds of the ocean in response." / In which Annabeth and Percy raise their son and it's not at all what they expected. Percabeth.
1. Something Incredible

_Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.  
~Carl Sagan_

Annabeth's name shows up on Percy's caller ID one afternoon in mid-September. He lets the first call go to voicemail because he's grading papers (and she's probably just going to yell at him for forgetting to take her business clothes to the dry cleaners again).

But then she calls again – she never does that; she knows that if he doesn't pick up he's either fighting a monster or teaching or in a meeting – and so he excuses himself and steps out into the hallway.

"Annabeth?"

"You have to come home right now." Her words come out in a rush and Percy can't process her tone.

"Um, if this is about the dry cleaning—"

"What?" she sounds distracted. "No! This has nothing to do with— Just come home as soon as you can."

"Is something wrong?"

"Perseus Jackson, if you don't hang up the phone and get on the subway home, so help me—"

And so Percy all but sprints out the door.

Annabeth opens the door to their apartment before he can even slide his key into the lock and crashes her lips against his.

He responds and his ADHD almost lets him push her up against the wall, even with the door wide open like this, but he manages to pull back, close the door, and ask, "Uh, Annabeth?"

She just smiles at him.

He wonders if maybe she's been possessed by something – not that he minds the sudden enthusiasm – but then she's shoving something into his hands and smiling even wider.

At first he thinks it's a thermometer, but there's no numbers, just two pink lines and—

"Uh…"

"Oh my gods, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth mutters. Then she lowers her voice to a whisper, "I'm pregnant."

"You're…"

And then he tries to sweep her off her feet all romantic-like but misjudges the distance between them and they end up falling over onto the couch, which is just fine by him.

Percy kisses her gently and then sits up, realizing something.

He slides a hand down to reach under her shirt and splay his fingers out across her stomach.

"You're _pregnant_."

"We've been over this," she says, her voice taking on the borderline-condescending tone she sometimes uses when he says something dumb.

"But… there's, like, a _thing_ in there."

"That 'thing,'" she uses air quotes, "is your future child."

"I know," he says, bending down to kiss her again.

* * *

The doctor squeezes this weird gel onto Annabeth's stomach and Percy decides, for maybe the fortieth time, that pregnancy and _everything_ involved in it is the single weirdest thing on the planet. And that's including all the monsters and gods and decaf coffee (because really, _decaf_?).

But then the doctor does something and the screen behind his head lights up and there's—a _thing_ moving on it.

(_"Your future child,_" he hears Annabeth scolding in his head).

It doesn't look much like a _child_, not yet at least, but the doctor points out the heartbeat and the head and then—

"Do you want to know the sex of your baby?"

Annabeth is only at twelve weeks and Percy is left completely unprepared for this (for gods sakes, he's still referring to his unborn child as _the thing_) and then he makes eye contact with Annabeth – they haven't talked about this at all – and he doesn't even know if he's ready for that kind of information yet.

Ever since Tartarus Annabeth has been able to tell when he's stressed or anxious and her eyes flash toward him for a brief second.

"No," she says. "Let's keep it a secret."

* * *

"What are we going to do about a name?" Annabeth asks in bed one night.

She's just barely starting to show, but the baby is taking over every waking moment of their thoughts.

Percy flicks the light on and reaches across Annabeth for the notebook she keeps at her bedside "just in case." He tears a sheet of paper out and draws a line down the middle, labeling the two columns "B" and "G."

Annabeth sighs next to him.

"I didn't mean right this second," she mumbles. "Turn the light off. We can think about this in the morning."

"We can think about this now," Percy says. "You're three and a half months pregnant and we haven't even started to think about a name." He pauses. "We're going to be terrible parents."

Annabeth leans close to him.

"You're going to be an amazing father," she whispers.

He thinks it's a little bit ironic that growing up he never really had a Dad. Mr. Blofis – Paul, whatever, it was still weird – might fill that role now, but growing up it had been just him and his mom. Poseidon may have made a contribution, but he had never really been a _father_.

And here Percy has less than six months to get his act together.

* * *

"No," Percy says. "No. Absolutely not."

"Come on," Annabeth pleads. "We could have a driveway. You could drive to work."

"No," he says again.

"And a swingset in the backyard…"

"I said _no_."

Annabeth comes up beside him, pressing her lips against the spot of his jaw right below his ear, whispering in what she _knows_ is a dead sexy tone of voice, "We could get a house on the shore. Right by the ocean."

It takes every ounce of self-control Percy has not to give in then and there and just make out with her for hours. Annabeth must know this; she's already smiling like she's won something.

But Percy puts his foot down.

"Absolutely not," he repeats. "I don't care how much you want to live in the suburbs. My child is not growing up in _New Jersey_."

* * *

Six months pass in a blur and Percy is teaching his seventh graders when he gets the call.

"Annabeth?"

Thirty students stare up at him in shock as though they can't imagine a _teacher _using a cell-phone in class.

"I'm having contractions," she breathes.

"I'm coming."

Percy hangs up and uses the landline the dial the front desk, shoving his papers into his bag with his free hand.

"Hi, can you send someone to watch my students in room 312?" he pauses, listening to the secretary on the other end of the line mutter something about needing advanced notice for this kind of thing. "My wife is having a baby." He says the words in a rush, slamming the phone back down and turning back to his students.

"You guys can have a study hall for the rest of the period," he says. "I'll see you on Monday."

Then he sprints out the door.

"Go Mr. Jackson!" one of his students yells.

* * *

They take a cab to the hospital. Annabeth's hand is clamped around Percy's so hard he's worried he might lose circulation. His thoughts are full of imaginings of the future – teaching a daughter to swordfight, a son to swim.

And then they're in the hospital, and the doctor – he introduces himself as Dr. Thompson – is coaching Annabeth through some sort of breathing technique, and Sally shows up, and Paul, and Annabeth's dad and stepmom call to say they're boarding their flight, and Percy has this weird moment where he's both excited and terrified at the same time.

Annabeth is just about screaming her head off (and _Holy Hera_ her grip on his wrist is tight) and then, suddenly, she's quiet, and Dr. Thompson holds up… a baby.

_Percy's_ baby.

Holy crap this is real.

The baby is covered in this weird gunky reddish whiteish stuff, but a nurse wipes it off and then – "Here's your son."

Annabeth reaches her arms out, wiping the sweat off her brow and then taking the baby like it's no big deal, like she's just killed another monster, not pushed an eight pound human out of her vagina.

Dr. Thompson has a birth certificate. "Have you decided on a name?"

Percy glances at Annabeth. She nods.

"Charles," he says.

They'll call him Charlie. After Beckendorf. Middle name Frederick, after Annabeth's dad.

Dr. Thompson lets Percy hold Charlie for a minute before they take him into another room to run some "routine tests," and he's surprised by how easily his arms cradle the infant, as though they were built to hold his son.

"Congratulations," Sally says, kissing Percy's cheek. Paul claps a hand on his shoulder. Jason and Piper and Hazel and Frank and Leo and his girlfriend-of-the-week and Thalia and probably half of the Hunters and Rachel all rush in.

After nearly an hour Dr. Thompson walks back in and hands Charlie to Annabeth.

"May I speak with Mr. and Mrs. Jackson alone, please?"

"Is everything okay?" Sally asks, suddenly looking panicked. Percy has no idea why – Charlie is safe in Annabeth's arms – but somehow Dr. Thompson ushers them all out of the room with a simple, "The baby is fine."

He turns to Annabeth and Percy. "Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, you should know – and there's no need to be alarmed – but I'm afraid your son failed the hearing test."

Percy can barely process the words. He hears Annabeth's quick intake of breath beside him.

"What?"

"Your son is deaf."

_A/N: To be continued when I get a chance. _


	2. Our Wills and Fates

_A/N: I guess I should warn you that there are HoH spoilers in this chapter just in case you've been living under a rock for the past six months._

_Our wills and fates do so contrary run_

_That our devices still are overthrown;_

_Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own._

_~Shakespeare, Hamlet (3.2.208)_

Percy closes his eyes and opens them as though the motion might wake him from this dream-turned-nightmare.

His son. Deaf. He'd never hear Annabeth's voice when she sang off-key in the shower. Never hear the scratch of pencil on paper as Percy made lesson plans or graded tests, never hear the click-clack of the keyboard on Annabeth's computer.

Charlie would never hear his parents wake up screaming from nightmares of Tartarus, or the soft whispers and shuddering breaths as they struggled to fall asleep again. He'd never hear the doorbell ring when Grandma Sally and Grandpa Paul came to visit.

He'd never hold a seashell to his ear and hear the comforting sounds of the ocean in response.

He'd never hear the _swish_ of a blade through the air in combat, would never hear the warning cry from another demigod (_quarter-god? _Wondered the ADHD part of Percy's brain. _What do you call the child of two half-bloods?_) as a surprise attack came from behind.

How would Charlie hold his own in a fight? Or talk on the phone? Or… or…

The list goes on and on, running through Percy's mind in a vicious cycle of things his son would never be able to do.

He is vaguely aware of Dr. Thompson talking about "meeting to discuss their options" but all he can think about is that _of course_ this is what he gets; he and Annabeth saved Olympus (twice) and literally went through Hell to do it, and here they get more challenges and roadblocks thrown in their way.

Annabeth walks toward the waiting room to talk to her parents, but Percy can't break this news to his mother just yet. He can barely process it himself.

So he stumbles out into the hallway, pushing through door after door in the hospital, walking even when a passing nurse tells him "Where do you think you're going? Only staff are allowed through that—" and rounding corners at whim, part of him hoping for a minotaur, a laistrygonian giant, anything to distract him from this nightmare. He's running aimlessly, falling through doorways until—

"_Percy?_"

Percy glances up, barely recognizing the man in front of him until something clicks in his mind, a faded memory he had never truly forgotten.

"Nico."

He'd be 25 now, Percy calculates, taking in the dark hair that's just an inch too long to be considered clean-cut, the stubble just starting to form under his chin, and the fact that the kid has shot up at least eight inches since the last time Percy saw him… eleven years ago.

But puberty and a haircut aren't the only things that's changed, but even as he absorbs the fact that Nico is wearing scrubs and looking like he _belongs_ here in the hospital Percy still can't put a finger on what, exactly, it is.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" Nico whisper-yells at him, and Percy just makes a vague gesture at the door he's just fallen through as though it would offer some sort of explanation.

Percy latches onto the fact that Nico referred to "Hell" and not "Hades" and wonders briefly whether Nico really did drop off the radar. He'd always assumed that Nico spent most of his time in the Underworld or shadow traveling around the world, never imagined that he'd be in New York.

"I could ask you the same question," Percy snaps, suddenly angry. _My son is deaf and Nico di Angelo lives in New York. _"You could have at least answered our Iris Messages. Hazel has been—"

"Stop," Nico says. "Stop it."

"No," Percy says, and eleven years worth of anger and fear come pouring out. "Look, I get it if you hate me because of a mistake I made when I was in _middle school_, but you owe your sister at least a Christmas card every year—"

"I don't hate you."

Percy pauses, processing the words.

"Oh," he says, because he doesn't know how to respond to that. "Um. Okay."

"I never… I never really did, I guess," Nico adds hurriedly. "So you can stop feeling—whatever."

"Thanks," Percy says, but in a way it feels like too little, too late. Ever since Bianca died he'd spent more than his fair share of time worrying about Nico, agonizing over how he'd let him down.

_I don't hate you._

Better late than never.

"Um," Percy says, "So… why _are_ you here?"

Nico stares at the floor, looking mildly embarrassed, "I'm in medical school."

"You're in—you went to _college_ and you didn't tell any of us?"

"Jason knew. I told him not to tell anyone else."

"You've been talking to—" he makes a mental note to kill Jason later for eleven years of mental agony. "Why?"

"I finished with the Argo II and then I had to sort some things out," Nico shrugs. "It's complicated. Don't worry about it."

"You could have come to camp in the summers like the rest of us," Percy says.

"I never really belonged there and you know it," Nico responds. "Besides, why are _you _here?" He pauses, a horrified look crossing his face. "You don't have cancer, do you, because—"

"What? No. Why would I—"

"Uh," Nico says, gesturing at the sign over his head, "Oncology ward."

"No, I just needed to get away—"

And then the reality of the situation comes crashing back down like the weight of the sky on his shoulders. Charlie.

"I—Annabeth—our son—"

"You have a son?"

"As of about thirty minutes ago." And then, miraculously, for the first time, Percy feels a glimmer of pride. _I have a son._

Nico gets this weird look on his face that suddenly makes him look fourteen-years-old again. But it fades just as quickly. "Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Dr. Singh said once you check on the kid in 318 you can go home," someone calls from behind Nico.

It's another med student, Percy guesses, a tallish guy with gelled-back brown hair who walks up to Nico and kisses him lightly on the cheek. "How much do you want to bet he throws up all over you again?"

"Spencer."

"I'm just saying. If you come out of there covered in half-digested hot dog again I get to pick the movie tonight."

Nico's face is bright red, a shade Percy has never seen before behind his olive skin, and in that second he realizes what it is that makes him look so different.

Nico di Angelo is _happy_.

Spencer suddenly seems to notice Percy standing there and glances at Nico for an introduction.

"Oh, um, Percy, this is my" – his face gets a weird look on it, almost like he's gathering his courage – "my boyfriend, Spencer. Spencer, Percy."

"We used to go to summer camp together," Percy tells Spencer, all the while trying to process this information.

If you'd asked him a dozen years ago whether he thought Nico di Angelo would ever be in a relationship with _anyone_, never mind another guy, Percy would have laughed at the thought. The kid had always been kind of a loner, at least since Bianca's death. But now, with Nico blushing and smiling and looking like a human instead of an emaciated zombie, all he can think is, _oh, right, of course_.

It makes sense that Nico is gay in the same way it made sense to learn that his father was Poseidon. It didn't complete the puzzle, but it was like finding the piece that linked some of the disparate parts together.

"I should go finish up these charts," Spencer says. "I'll see you at my apartment later."

He kisses Nico quickly – this time on the mouth – and then disappears down the hallway.

"He seems nice," Percy says, because he needs to say something.

Nico just stares at him. "That's it? That's all you have to say?"

Percy almost responds with a sardonic, "About what?" but he knows Nico is looking for more substance.

"Nico," he says, "I'm glad you're happy, okay?"

"But you—I'm…"

"It's cool," Percy says. "Really."

And this time, he really can't comprehend the look on Nico's face at all.

"Look," Nico says finally, "I really do have to get back to work…"

"I'll IM you," Percy says. "Answer it this time."

"Okay."

Before Nico can leave, Percy adds, "Just so you know, um, when we were thinking about names, for the baby… we thought about Bianca. If it was a girl, I mean."

Nico finally meets his eyes. "Thanks."

And then he's gone.

Percy leans his head back against the wall. He needs to go back to the delivery room, to his wife and son and friends, and be the brave leader that everyone always expects him to be.

But Charlie is deaf and he doesn't know how to be brave.

"Perseus Jackson."

The use of his full name means that either a god or his mother is standing there, and given that Percy was pretty sure the gods shared his dislike of the smell all hospitals had he was willing to bet on the latter.

He turns around. "Mom."

And then he finds himself wrapped in her arms, and even though he's taller than her and an adult it still feels good to let her hold him while he tries to blink back the tears that have been threatening to break free since Dr. Thompson had said that Charlie had failed his hearing test.

Then Sally Jackson pulls away and looks at Percy while she holds him by the shoulders.

"You need to go back to your wife and son," she says gently.

"I know."

"Hey – hey, look at me, Percy," she says. "This may not be what you wanted or expected, but that is your _son_, and you are going to raise him and be a damned good father."

"Mom," Percy says, and his voice breaks over the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat, "He's deaf."

"So he can't hear," Sally says. "So you'll have to make adjustments. So what?"

"But I don't even know how to—"

"Do you think any parent has any idea what the hell they're doing when they have a kid? Do you think _I_ had any idea what I was doing?"

"I don't…"

"Percy, I found out I was pregnant with you before I even had my GED and suddenly I was a single mother with no job and a screaming infant who happened to be the kid of a Greek god. And then you made it to kindergarten and I found out you had ADHD and dyslexia and you kept getting kicked out of school and attacked by monsters and then I had to send you away every summer to go and nearly get yourself killed on all those quests."

"Mom…"

"But at the end of the day, you were my son, and that's all that mattered. And I don't love you in spite of everything. I love you because of it."

She sighs, shaking her head slightly while she looks up at him. Percy notices the streaks of gray running through her hair and wonders, not for the first time, whether raising a kid like him had ever been as difficult as carrying the weight of the world.

"Because at the end of the day, you're caring, and resilient, and braver than anyone I've ever met, and you would have been all those things regardless of whether or not you could hear."

Percy closes his eyes and hugs her again.

"Thanks, Mom."

_A/N: So that's chapter two. Let me know what you think!_

_And if you like Nico and Spencer, here's a shameless plug for _**To Partake of Life Fully**_. _

_I'd also like to put a little note in here about the fact that this is the story of ONE family raising a deaf/Deaf* child and is NOT meant to be reflective of the experiences of ALL families with deaf/Deaf children._

_Much of my information comes from my own experiences with a Hard of Hearing older sister (meaning that she has partial hearing loss), but obviously this fic is going to involve some fiction. If anyone ever has comments regarding the factual information about the Deaf world/experience, please let me know._

_*deaf = cannot hear. Deaf (capital D) has to do with Deaf culture as well as the physiological phenomenon of not being able to hear. I'll explore this later in the fic, but if you're curious do some google searching on Deaf culture._


End file.
